Chaos
by Vi Hawke
Summary: Set from S8E7. Kevin knows how to work the Gates of Hell. Thing is he's told Crowley all about it and now it's a 'fun' filled race to see who can get there first. First order of business? Collecting the little psychos needed for the party. OCs will be introduced. M for language, maybe some gore. Pairings are undecided at the moment but definitely no OCxCharacter pairings.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, Kripke's the brilliant mind behind those; it's just the plot that's mine. We good? Awesome.**

**WARNINGS: Some dialogue taken from S8E7 (implies there will be some spoilers, for those who have yet to realise), light references to torture, some swearing, no better so beware god-awful spelling and grammar…and that's all I can think of. Enjoy.**

**Summary**

**Set from S8E7, Kevin knows how to work the Gates of Hell. Thing is he's told Crowley all about it and now it's a fun filled race to see who can get there first. First order of business? Collecting the little psychos needed for the party of course. OCs will be introduced.**

**Pairings are undecided but definitely no OCxCharacter pairings. I hate those.**

**AN: Title is a work in progress, I'll eventually think of something decent.**

* * *

_One_

* * *

"It's been two weeks. Two friggin' weeks and we have _nothing_." Dean hissed in frustration. Sam sighed. Dean was right, sure, but he'd been right the first four times he'd said that.

"I know Dean, but what else are we supposed to do?" He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, sore as they were from staring at his laptop for several hours. Coffee wasn't going to do him any good now; sleep was getting to be a must. "Cas has been looking anywhere and everywhere. Those archdemons are nowhere to be found."

Dean snorted, "Archdemons. Even the name is stupid." He threw himself down on the crappy motel bed as if to emphasize his point. "They're not even proper demons."

"Dean, no. Just no. We're not having this conversation again." Sam glared at his brother.

"I'm just saying." Dean huffed moodily. "We don't even know if they're real, we've never come across them and we've come across just about everything!"

Sam sighed again as he put his laptop away and stretched out on the bed opposite. "We didn't even know if angels existed a few years back. What's your point?"

"Yeah but you _believed_." Dean snickered, "And Cas didn't know about them either. How does an angel not know about demons? They're sworn enemies!"

"I don't know, but we're just gonna have to keep looking." Sam rolled over. "Now shut up and let me sleep."

* * *

_2 weeks ago_

His hand ached, god knows, it fucking ached, but he had a feeling it would be ending soon. He tried hard not to look at the stump where his little finger used to be but it was hard. This wasn't fair. What had he ever done to deserve such a fate? He just wanted to be normal. Go to Harvard with his girlfriend, become a doctor of unparalleled skill. Normal things. God must have hated him with a fierce passion.

Why else would He have made Kevin a prophet? He was so tired of demons always being after him and his mother. He was tired of his mother pouring holy water on him every time he stepped out- Oh wait. His mother was dead. He was probably going to die too, now that he thought about it. He found it sad that he didn't feel anything more than the inevitability of the sad fact. It seemed he no longer valued his life as much as he had.

"Tell me something I don't know Kevin." Crowley half growled at him from across the table. "Think macro, this is stupefyingly micro."

"How macro?" Kevin had no illusions about living after Crowley was done with him but even so close to death he feared more pain. Of course, a dead man had no need for fingers but a live one found the removal of them quite painful. Sam or Dean would have been able to ignore the pain out of sheer stubbornness, no doubt, but he was not them. He had yet to figure out if that was a good thing but it was a fact so thinking about it wasn't going to help him any.

"Game-changing."

"Well…" He started. It was difficult to keep going. Was he really going to give in to the demon that had killed his mother?

"Don't provoke me Kevin, you still have nine fingers left."

Yes, yes he was. "This part describes sealing the gates of hell," The words practically leapt out of his mouth at the threat. "And how to rip them wide open."

Crowley's eyes widened. "What the…?" He jumped out of his seat and stalked toward the cowering boy. "Rip them open? How? Why?"

Kevin felt himself quivering as he tried to answer. Talking and hyperventilating was hard to do at the same time. "Yes, archdemons, to merge Hell and Earth."

Crowley looked perplexed. "_To merge Hell and Earth_? That sounds like a party I'd rather not attend." He paced around the chamber almost talking to himself. He spun on his heel suddenly and narrowed his eyes at Kevin. "What the hell is an 'archdemon'?"

"Archdemons are the original demons hell was created for." Even light headed from breathing too fast, Kevin could tell this was news to the so-called King of Hell. "You don't know what an archdemon is?"

"There's no such fucking thing!" Crowley almost screamed in his face. "Hell was created to contain Lucifer, every half wit knows that." He seemed to calm down as if stating the well-known 'fact' reaffirmed his belief.

Kevin was starting to feel a little numb. It was nice to know that he couldn't feel mind-numbing terror for long periods of time. Then again, the hysteria that was gradually taking its place might get him more pain that he really couldn't deal with. "Not according to Metatron." His eyes were starting to lose focus, a knowing little grin stretching the tense line that had been his mouth for past few hours. He relished knowing something the demon-who-fucked-up-his-life did not. "They were created when God first made the archangels."

Crowley watched the little profit grin at him with increasing anger. There was no way in hell, God with a capital G decided to make demons to go with his little feathered friends. "Why would God make demons? Why even lie about this you little shit?"

"Lie? Why-"

"I've got you by the short and curlies, you little FUCK!" He roared at the moronic half-wit. Fuck it, he had plenty of other prophets to question, he would just kill this ass now rather than listen to whatever pathetic lies he could come up with.

Oh, and Kevin felt was back to the terror again. Then and there he decided he was not above begging for his life, whatever little there was left of it. "It was a mistake!" He half cried, half whimpered. "He didn't mean to make them. They just formed when He created the archangels."

He had Crowley's attention again. "What do you mean 'He made a mistake'?"

"The archdemons. They're like the exact opposites of each archangel. They're nothing like you guys, they're just…well Metatron calls them 'agents of chaos most absolute'."

The demon was watching him with narrowed eyes again. He stalked back to his side of the table and sat down, contemplating the implications of what the short teen was telling him. Finally, he smiled. "Tell me a story Kevin." He nodded to the tablet Kevin had a death-grip on. "Make it good and I might consider letting you live. Lie and I'll cut off little bits of you and feed them to my pets. I'm sure you're little story book has told you all about Hellhounds." He smirked a little then.

Kevin hated how his heart almost leapt out of his chest at the slim hope of survival. It shamed him. Even so, the very human need to ensure a prolong life pushed him towards making this worth Crowley's while. He looked down at the tablet and translated as best he could. "Okay, so God made the archangels and for every one of them, an archdemon was created. Metatron says that they were chaos. Everything about them was unplanned, unformed, unknown. Even to God." He, himself, had to take a breath at that. What was God if not an all-knowing being? He cleared his throat. "He didn't want them to harm the design of His great creation so he made Hell. To keep them away. But they couldn't be held so when the first humans were created, they broke out for a bigger playground and integrated themselves into that race, their influence spreading and God…let them? No, he didn't think it would be safe to stop them. Or something like that. Unlike the angels, these beings weren't eternal in the same sense as they are. Instead of having their own bodies, they find souls they like and join with them, corrupt them. The humans they choose…they aren't vessels. They more or less merge into one being."

"So they're basically little parasites that can't even take over a human body? That's rather pathetic." Crowley snorted contemptuously.

Kevin frowned as he looked back over the part he'd just read. "No, I'm not explaining it right. They don't care about things like that. This isn't about power or gaining control. Their only aim is chaos. It doesn't matter if it's big or small, good or evil, it's just about fucking up the order."

"So…these amazing archdemons are basically tricksters? What _is_ the fuss about?" Crowley looked bored now and Kevin could literally see his time running out.

He sighed. What did it matter whether the demon believed him or not? It wouldn't change the fact that he was going to die. Hopefully his cooperation would ensure a less painful departure from the world of the living. "Anyway, the humans they merge with are fundamentally changed. It happens at birth so people wouldn't realise they're possessed, sort of, the only real giveaways are an extended life span, heightened intelligence, tendency towards violence, large sexual appetites, etc."

"'Large sexual appetites'? So they're basically souped up humans. How terrifying." Crowley picked up the paper windmill he'd left on the table, casually blowing it again as Kevin translated the tablet. All this hoopla over little human sociopathic whores. What was God thinking? Although now he could see why God wanted to keep them under lock and key. How embarrassing it must have been to a creature as proud as He.

"They got stronger when they gather," Kevin ignored Crowley, numbness settling over him again. "But they can only gather at a time where the gate must be closed or 'torn asunder'."

The demon suddenly perked up. "Now we're getting to the sexy part-"

Crowley suddenly stops at the sound of wings and turned to find an angel he felt he knew all too well. "Castiel," He took in the trench coat and suit combo the other was wearing again. Looked like the angel really was back this time, although he was looking a tad worse for wear. If he hadn't know better, he would have thought the angel was about to faint. Either way, this looked like it was going to go his way. His smile brightened considerably. "Fresh out of Purgatory. You should have called first."

"Crowley." His low tone echoed through the room. It had been a while since he'd heard that tone in that voice. It sent little shivers of delight down his spine, it seemed the angel was finally ready to be demolished. After all, there was no enjoyment to be had by knifing a crazy angelic bastard.

"Which Castiel is it this time? I'm never sure, madman or megalomaniac?" He taunted.

The angel didn't react to the comment in the slightest. "Kevin is coming with me."

Crowley fought not to scoff. "I think not." He grinned at Kevin, "Prophet's playing on my team now." He faced Castiel across the little table where the prophet had been tortured, blood pooling in the gouges of the wood. He had to admit, he was enjoying the ambience the blood was giving off. Some times brutality and blind terror were as satisfying as refined cruelty. Sometimes.

"So this is how it is to be." Cas threw in a little smirk of his own as Kevin wisely backed away from the two facing off.

"It's all West Side Story, but let's be logical." The demon almost snickered as an image of Cas from before popped into his head. As irritating as he'd been as a head case, he had provided some light entertainment even if it was only to illustrate how far the angel had fallen. "You look like hell. And I should know." He gestured at the angel's obviously tired body. "You're not up for this."

Castiel didn't seem to feel the need to respond verbally. He went the truly flashy way all angels seemed to instinctively gravitate towards, his eyes flashing blue, light pouring from his shaken vessel.

Crowley's eyes widened at the sheer dominating power the angel was giving off. Fury boiled in his blood as the possibility of an easy victory slowly, but surely, receded into the distance. "Maybe you can get it up, but you can't keep it up!" He yelled as the sound of a thousand feathers fluttering filled the room. "You're bluffing!"

Castiel simply cocked his head slightly as the silhouette of his divine wings billowed on the wall behind him. "Do you really want to take that chance?" He intoned calmly.

The demon thought about it, he really did. But even if the angel was weakened, the little light show was more than enough to convince him that even then, he'd risk severe injury. If he could just grab the tablet…

He lunged forward and managed to snag the edge of the troublesome little thing as Cas brought his arm down with the force of a large sledgehammer. The strength behind it made the tablet crack audibly but Crowley was already disappearing with half before the prophet or the angel can mourn its incompleteness.

The metal door leading out of the torture chamber suddenly caved in, Dean following close behind.

"You…" Kevin looks at him a little wide eyed before breaking out into a slightly hysterical grin, "You're late."

Dean barely managed to grab him as the prophet passed out, Cas watching carefully trying to hide how damn tired he was from his charge. Did Dean even count as his charge anymore? Cas shook his head; that could be left till later. Right now, he had to help his _friend_ and get out of the godforsaken hole Crowley had stuck the prophet in. Not go off on nonsensical tangents.

Dean slung the prophet's arm across his shoulders as he tried to discreetly watch Cas. There was something wrong with his friend, he just didn't know what. _Yet._ He also wanted an explanation. He could always tell when the angel was hiding something from him and he could feel the mounting fury from being lied to. Cas knew something. He knew exactly how he got out of Purgatory; Dean could feel it right down to his battle weary bones.

"We need to talk, Cas." He murmured as he passed the angel, trying to keep how truly pissed he was out of the tone of his voice. He was already walking through what was left off the door so he missed the fleeting expression of guilt Castiel couldn't quite hide.

"Of course Dean. But let us attend to Kevin first. I'm sure he will have much to tell us once he wakes."

"You're still not a good liar, Cas." Dean was far enough away that a human wouldn't have heard but for the angel, his gravel-like voice rang loud and clear.

* * *

_Back to present time_

"They're humans. How can humans be demons? Archdemons?" Dean sighed as he looked thoughtfully at his brother. It had taken him less than three minutes to pass out and for that, he was grateful.

Cas was avoiding him, he knew that but he also knew that he wouldn't be able to ignore a prayer from him. The guy really didn't have it in him to ignore one of his few friends. Especially Dean who he shared a _profound_ bond with. This was the first time in weeks Dean had gotten any time alone that wasn't in the damn bathroom and he fully planned to make use of it.

He silently slipped off the bed, his bones protesting the movement, telling him to rest. He ignored them in favor of pulling on his jacket and slipping out of the door of the crappy motel. He made his way to the car but resisted turning it on as he slid into the leather seats he had taken such good care of since his dad's passing. He knew Sam was attuned enough to the engine to recognize it, especially on such a quiet night. Kind of defeated the purpose of having a private conversation if Sam burst out of the room convinced Dean was going off to do something hare-brained.

He looked around for a moment, trying to prepare himself for what was likely to be an uncomfortable almost-argument with a reticent angel. He ran a callused hand down his face, and sighed. "Cas? Can I talk to you please?"

He waited a moment, elbow balanced precariously against the window, palm pressed against his forehead until he heard the telltale shifting of wings. His mouth set grimly as he turned resolutely to stare into the bright eyes of his long time friend, _his _angel. He would get some answers this night. _He would_.

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
